


Kintsugi, "The Beauty of Broken Things"

by MalikaiFlame



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Homesick Lance (Voltron), Human Experimentation, Lance (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, M/M, Manhandling, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, sheith if you want it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalikaiFlame/pseuds/MalikaiFlame
Summary: Shiro and Lance get captured by Haggar and her soldiers. After unwillingly undergoing an experiment, Shiro and Lance's relationship is put to the test and the two have to work towards coming to terms with what happened. Voltron depends on it.





	1. Injection

“This will not be pleasurable, but you will get plenty of that here soon enough.” 

Shiro grunted as he fought against the two Galra who held him still. On his knees, he felt more vulnerable than he had in months. Judging by the pain in his arm, one soldier was holding him at such an angle that he would dislocate it if he fought back any harder. Shiro was ready to do so, but he needed to gather more information first. They were outnumbered, both by number and strength, due to the injury he had gained during their capture. The worst part was that, over the witch’s shoulder, he could see Lance, trembling and subdued, yet still trying to be strong. However, Lance’s eyes had never learned how to lie. Shiro could see the fear leaking out of them through the form of tears. At least the Galras’ attention was on him. 

_It’s not on Lance._

Despite his desire to put on a brave face for his comrade, Shiro let out a small hiss as his head was pulled back by his hair, exposing his neck. The sharp jerk tore his eyes away from Lance and back onto the witch, who now wielded a syringe. Shiro steeled himself, but not before he felt a flash of fear. He could see Lance stiffen in response. Perhaps Shiro’s eyes had never learned how to lie either.

“Hey. Why does Shiro get to have all of the fun?” Lance whined.

The witch and the two Galra holding Shiro down turned their attention to Lance. Shiro knew what he was doing. He did it all the time whenever dangerous situations came up. Demanding attention. Diverting it from others and onto himself. It was reckless and the Paladin was in no position to defend himself. Protective anger rushed through Shiro’s blood and he took the opportunity to fight back, ready to attack, only to be pinned down again by the Galras’ unyielding grips.

“He’s not even the good-looking one.”

_Shut up, Lance!_

“Don’t worry.” the witch promised, shaking the syringe nonchalantly in Lance’s direction, “You’re going to get plenty of attention.” 

Shiro glared at the witch as she approached him, the syringe pointed in his direction. He refused to tug against the restraints. Refused to give in to his fear, which was boiling within him, begging to be released. He steeled his gaze, staring directly into the witch’s glowing eyes as the syringe plunged into his neck. 

Despite it’s appearance, it felt surprisingly dull. It did not go in smoothly and Shiro felt his skin pop under the pressure. Whatever was being forced into his veins burned along the way. He gasped, not expecting the searing pain. 

He couldn’t help himself.

He screamed.


	2. Insertion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: the non-con is in this chapter. Skip if you do not want to read.

Lance watched through blurred vision as the witch and her two cronies left. He fought against every cell in his body as he sat in place, waiting for the cell door to close. He knew that if he moved too quickly, the Galra may hit him again, and all he wanted to do was get to Shiro as soon as possible. He sat on the toes of his feet, poised to rush to Shiro’s aid the second he was in the clear. 

His body was killing him. Lance attempted to stand, only to find his legs were unable to support him. His knee buckled and Lance collapsed back onto the ground, gripping his leg. He brought his hand back, seeing blood. His breath catching in his throat, he twisted around to get a better look, only to find that he had a pretty nasty gash on his right calf. It looked like standing wasn’t going to be an option. But he had to get to Shiro. If he couldn’t walk over to his leader, he would crawl.

“Stay back, Lance!”

The urgency in Shiro’s voice stopped Lance mid-crawl. “Shiro?” Lance whispered. He settled back on his heels, hissing at the pain in his leg. He squinted more closely at Shiro’s shaking body.

The sight of his hero terrified him. Shiro remained on his knees, even though the Galra holding him down had left a while ago, desperately gripping his sides. His breath came out as labored, uneven spurts and his body was glistening with sweat. 

“Shiro…” Lance begged “Answer me, please. What’s going on?”

The look Shiro gave him said enough: _I don’t know._

“What can I do?” Lance pleaded.

“I don’t kn--” 

Shiro arched back in pain, his sentence being cut off. Short bursts of Shiro’s voice came out as his body writhed. His chest billowed as he fought his own body for air.

Lance couldn’t take it. He felt useless. Despite his earlier caution, he hit the cell door as hard as his could. Due to his leg injury couldn’t get any momentum, so he just dropped down against it, hoping it would make some sort of impact. Unfortunately, even without a crippling leg wound, he barely weighed enough as is. Brute strength had always been more of Shiro and Hunk’s area of expertise. 

“WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HIM?” Lance yelled down the corridor, knowing he wouldn’t receive a response. 

All of a sudden, a tremendous force gripped him by the collar of his shirt and threw him backwards, deeper into the cell.

Lance yelped in surprise. It was a noise he didn’t know he was capable of making. He had never heard it before. He heard a loud crack echo off of the walls. It took him a few moments to realize that it had been his own head that had it the cold, unforgiving stone.

“Shiro! What are you do--” Lance was cut off by Shiro’s firm hand covering his mouth. Out of pure instinct, Lance bit down as hard as he could, only to find that it was metal.

“I c-can’t stop.” Shiro stuttered, his eyes full of fear as he began to force Lance harder onto the cell floor. “Lance, I can’t control my body!”

Lance had never given much thought to the power Shiro possessed. He had always recognized his strength, and appreciated it when they were in the heat of battle, but he had never thought about the danger it held. He never thought he would have to. It had never occurred to him that Shiro would use that strength against him.

Lance choked a sob as he felt Shiro forcing his legs apart. Lance always knew that Shiro was strong, but not like this. He began to fight back, feeling as if he would snap in half; his lean body significantly smaller than Shiro’s. Lance could feel both of Shiro’s hands, one keeping Lance’s arms firmly above his head and the other maliciously keeping his legs apart. Lance began to kick wildly, begging Shiro to stop. Out of sheer, blind luck, he landed a strong blow to Shiro’s stomach, which temporarily caused him to release his grip. Lance to that moment to do the only thing he could do: cower.

He knew he would achieve nothing in doing so, but Shiro had him cornered. The only place to go was farther back into the cell. He scrambled back until he felt his back hit the cold wall again. The cool touch coming off of it seemed to be taunting Lance, as he had started to sweat from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The cell walls stood as a silent witness as Lance could do nothing to stop what was happening.

Lance knew that Shiro was talking to him, his voice coming out strained and desperate, but he couldn’t make out the words. The only thing he could concentrate on was the pain and the dull thuds as Shiro forced his body into his.


	3. Incubation

Whatever Haggar had in that syringe died down. It’s power faded. But the effects of it did not.

It had been a few days since the two Paladins had seen or had any sort of communication with Galra, aside from when they made their daily rounds to feed them. When their meals did arrive, Shiro would go to the cell door to retrieve the food, refusing to let anything get close to Lance, including himself.

He would slide the meager plate of nourishment in Lance’s direction, hoping that Lance would eat this time. But he never did. The plate was always left alone and, as hungry as Shiro was, he never ate what Lance didn’t. Lance had begun to lose weight. His cheekbones, which had always been particularly noticeable, had begun sticking out far beyond his hollowed face.

_It’s been days since he ate something. The last time was hours before..._

Shiro pushed the thought, as well as the bile rising in his throat, back down. Shiro would do Lance an injustice if he were to wallow in his self-pity. He was the last person anyone should feel bad for. What he had done was unforgivable.

It was the silence that really killed Shiro. Beside’s Lance’s impeccable aim, and his unmatched ability to stir up trivial annoyances, Lance was always the one the team could rely on for good company. 

His silence was deafening.

The only sounds that kept them company were the creaks throughout the Galra ship, which echoed sporadically. Otherwise, the pair was consumed with silence. Occasionally, Shiro would clear his throat, just to remind himself that he was still able to speak. However, that had ended when he saw Lance once jump at the sound of his voice, his face riddled with terror. Lance never said it, but Shiro knew that Lance was constantly petrified to be in the same space as him.

So that’s how they spent their days, until Shiro heard something other than creaks.

It started as a dull boom. It shook the entire ship. Lance had been asleep and Shiro was keeping watch. Shiro appreciated it whenever Lance was asleep. It was the only time his body relaxed. The only time Lance’s shoulders slacked down from his neck. The only time when his arms uncurled from around his frail body. The only time Lance made a sound; when his breath came out in soft, quiet snores.

The second Shiro heard it, he was up on his feet. Lance was instantly awake, his chest heaving out of involuntary fear at Shiro’s sudden movement.

“What is it?” Lance croaked.

Shiro brought his finger up to his mouth, signalling for Lance to remain quiet. Suddenly, there was another boom, which was significantly louder this time. Shiro’s body prickled as he saw a door thrown off of its hinges down the corridor. It landed with a loud crack and then another voice rang out.

“SHIRO? LANCE?”

Shiro’s breath hitched in his throat.

_Keith._

“Over here!” Shiro yelled, surprised at how fragile it had become from neglect. 

Never had there been a more welcomed sight than that of the Red Paladin’s face, rugged from the heat of battle, as he sprinted towards Shiro’s voice. 

“Are you okay, Shiro?” Keith asked, restrained desperation in his voice.

“No.” Shiro responded honestly. “We need to get out of here.”

Worry filled Keith’s face has he looked Shiro over, examining for blood, injury, anything that would help him help Shiro. Shiro noticed it too.

“Hey,” Shiro said, softer this time, “I’m okay.”

Keith smirked, masking his relief. He took a few moments to assess the cell entrance before instructing Shiro to stand back. Keith retracted his bayard and took out a gun, which Shiro instantly recognized as Galra, and began to shoot at the bars.

As the cell bars crumbled under the fire from Keith’s gun, he was suddenly showered with heavy fire. Keith curled into his right arm.

“Dammit!” Keith grunted, taking out his bayard and shield. Shiro could see Keith’s arm armor beginning to become stained in a deep red.

“Shiro!” Keith yelled over the fire, “The bars are weak enough now! Grab Lance and let’s move!”

Shiro’s blood ran cold. He turned back to Lance, who had barely moved since he had been jarred awake. The glaze over his blue eyes was enough to make Shiro realize that Lance wasn’t all there. The blood loss from his calf injury and the lack of food was really starting to impair him. Lance wouldn’t last much longer.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I’m sorry, but we have to get you out of here.” Shiro apologized as he scooped Lance into his arms, hating himself for holding Lance close has he fought against Shiro’s grip.

He waited for a moment. The moment. He watched Keith with piercing eyes and waited, ready to make a burst for the door at Keith’s signal. Keith locked his feet in place and looked at Shiro out of the corner of his eye. It said all he needed to say.

_Run._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your views and comments. They really mean a lot. I hope you enjoy the next chapter!


	4. Incursion

Recovery had been pretty quick. The second the three returned to the Castle, Lance had been rushed off to a cryopod, where he remained for exactly 23 hours and 14 minutes. Shiro made himself scarce to the healing area; worried that he would be the first thing Lance saw when he awoke.

When Lance did emerge from the pod, he had been hungry. Hunk rushed Lance up to the kitchen and whisked together a complete, five course meal. Shiro could hear the two talking through the walls, where he heard an occasional laugh from Lance. Each time he heard Lance’s voice, Shiro could feel his stomach twist, both in relief and agony. It was a beautiful sound, but one that was so beautiful because of it’s absence. And it’s absence was because of him.

Lance’s mental recovery, though, turned out to be different matter.

Shiro did his best to avoid contact with Lance. If he heard the young Paladin’s voice approaching, Shiro would make himself scarce. Whenever they did accidentally run into one another, often in the mornings when preparing for the day, Lance would instinctively snake his way around Shiro, avoiding him as if he were poison. Apologies would scream from Lance’s eyes, but that was about all he could muster. 

“It’s okay, Lance.” Shiro had once said. “Take the time you need.”

But the life of a Paladin was never so generous, and Shiro should have known that it wouldn’t give Lance the time he needed. There was still a war with the Galra. The world still needed Voltron. And war had little patience for the needs of it’s soldiers.

\+ +

“Paladins of Voltron.” A voice rang out over the Castle’s intercom system, “Our planet is under attack. We need you!”

“We’re on our way!” Allura reassured, her posture nothing less than ethereal. After the communication with the alien planet had been cut off, she turned her attention to her Paladins, already suited up and ready to find their ways to their Lions. “We will follow in the Castle, close behind you. Go!”

One by one they shot out of the Castle and into the heat of battle. Hunk barrelled straight into a fleet of cruisers. Lance purposefully loitered, wanting to be the last one out, nervous thoughts buzzing throughout his mind.

He boarded Blue, instantly met by a rush of protective affection. His head slightly bumped the back of his chair as they shot out of the Castle. Upon looking at the battle before him, he oddly found himself relaxing. He had done this before. Many times before. As sad as it was, the heat of battle had become familiar to him. He settled down into his seat, giving a slight smile.

There was a quiet pop, letting Lance know that a communication line was opening.

“Everyone! We need to form Voltron NOW.”

The force in Shiro’s voice felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. It sent Lance into a panic had had not anticipated. His body began to shake, his hands unable to do anything but grip Blue’s controls. He was frozen. Terrified.

“Lance! What are you doing?” Keith yelled over the intercom in their helmets.

_I can’t. I can’t. I cant. i cant. i cant i cant_

After a seemingly eternal inner struggle, Lance gained some sense of control over his body, but all he could use it for was to jerk Blue’s controls, breaking formation, and fleeing as quickly as he could to the Castle.

Blue shivered underneath his palms. He could sense her confusion through the controls he was gripping so tightly to. Lance tried to steady his breathing, which was coming out in ragged spurts. His chest felt as if it was constricting into itself, his lungs mercilessly being crushed by the rise of his panic.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a video transmission pop up. Dread began to fill his system. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. 

Green? Red?

_Black._

He about cried out in relief when yellow came into view.

“Lance?!” Hunk’s voice came out in a hushed tone, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Lance couldn’t muster words, but he raised his head to lock eyes with Hunk. He instantly closed them, surprised by how painfully they stung from sweat falling into them. When had he become so drenched?

“Listen to me, okay buddy?”

Lance let out a choked noise as he curled into himself so that his head was between his legs, hoping that it was enough to make Hunk know that he was listening. It was all he could muster.

Hunk seemed to get the hint.

“This isn’t our first rodeo. This has happened at the Garrison before and you get through them every time.” Hunk pressed on, “Tap your leg. Wiggle your toes. Ground yourself, okay?”

Lance couldn’t respond back, but he forced himself to focus on those two things. Tentatively, he unclenched his fist, a dull ache spreading through his fingers as he stretched them back out. Slowly, he started patting his thigh. The sensation felt distant, as if it wasn’t his own leg. He could feel himself becoming more and more lightheaded as his body continued to rage war against itself. Hunk’s voice, although unintelligible, flooded him with comfort, gently urging him to keep going. A labored, but relieved, breath came out of him as he began to feel more connected with the taps and his breaths began to feel filling. 

“That’s right, Lance.” Hunk whispered, “You’re in control of your body.”

Lance nodded his head, knowing Hunk would be able to see via the video transmission. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hunk’s shoulders droop down out of relief.

“I’m… I’m okay.” Lance panted quietly. 

“Get back to the Castle, Lance.” Hunk responded. “And you better not feel bad about it, you hear me? I got some alien butt to kick!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like to write battle scenes, to be honest. So, here you go. I kind of skimmed it. Lance has it kind of rough in this chapter, but he always seems to.


	5. Intervention

Lance waited, dreading the sound of the Lions returning. He could hear the occasional thud, but it was made dull by the thick protection of the Castle. Guilt again crept up Lance's spine and infiltrated his mind. His friends were out fighting intergalactic forces of evil and all he had to fight was his own brain. He couldn't even win THAT.

His body stiffened involuntarily as he heard the scraping of metals. They were back.

Keith was already barreling towards him before Lance even had a chance to collect all of his thoughts. 

“What the hell, Lance?” Keith reprimanded, “Were you trying to get us all killed?”

Lance could feel his stomach begin to curl. He hated being looked at with such anger. Out of instinct, he stepped back. Lance could hear Blue growl defensively behind him.

“I…” Lance stumbled, looking for a justification that wasn’t the truth, “It’s… I…”

“What did you think you were doing?” Keith practically yelled. “Why did you break formation?”

Blue’s growling grew. Lance could feel it rumbling within his own gut.

“Keith!”

Shiro had made his way out of Black in such a way that demanded attention, his voice riddled with tension.

“Yelling at Lance isn’t going to change what happened.” Shiro muttered. Lance could tell that Shiro was refusing to look at him. Guilt tore through Lance, his face burning with shame. He could tell that Shiro was shaken too. Underneath his composed demeanor, Lance noticed Shiro was trembling. He could feel someone’s gaze. He looked up to see Pidge and Hunk, their eyes filled with concern. They made him feel even worse. He had just jeopardized the entire team, and they were concerned about him?

“No… Keith is right.” Lance interrupted. “I was being stupid.”

_Oh… there it is._

Lance could feel Shiro’s attention become suddenly and fiercely directed towards him and Lance could feel himself shrinking involuntarily under the gaze. 

“Lance, don’t call yourself stupid.” Hunk intervened. “And we got the job done. Voltron 1, Aliens 0.”

Hunk’s input seemed to diffuse the conversation. Keith begrudgingly dropped the subject and stormed off. Lance assumed it was towards the training simulators. That’s always where he went when he wanted to let off steam. As Keith passed by the Black Paladin, Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. Lance couldn’t read lips, but whatever he had said made Keith’s shoulders uncoil from their rigid position. Shiro always had a way of saying the right thing at the right time. He always had a way of pinpointing stressors and taking them away with a few simple words. Lance missed that reassuring presence. Now all he found was fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a short chapter. I know. However, I will be posting in a few days with a little more since this is shorter!


	6. Inaction

Shiro saw red.

“No… Keith is right.” 

Shiro’s whirlwind of thoughts were cut through by the meek voice.

_Lance._

“I was being stupid.”

Shiro’s eyes snapped in the young Paladin’s direction, his gaze finding. He looked so feeble under the scrutiny of his teammates. Shiro clenched his fists. After so much had been taken from him, Lance was still being so selfless. What happened had nothing to do with Lance’s faults, but his. Yet here they were, and despite all of Shiro’s strength, all he could do was watch as Lance took the blame. He wanted to so badly to absorb the blow; the pain inflicted.

But all he could do was watch. Helpless. 

It felt like it was becoming a habit.

Like the nights when Shiro was thrust awake by his own nightmares from those horrifying days. The way that he had to scratch as his skin, desperately trying to rid himself of the feeling of disgust. How he felt as if there were hands all over his body and he couldn’t push them off. Contaminated. The point of entry, where Haggar had injected him with that vile syringe, had healed. Long scarred over. But his mind still bled; that wound still fresh and pulsating. It would send waves of repulsion throughout his body while all he could do was hug himself, wishing to fall unconscious again so that the feelings would go away.

Like how he wouldn’t ever reach out for help. Where a part of him felt like this was what he deserved. That it was his fault. Was there something within him that caused Haggar’s concoction to work? Maybe he could have stopped it if he had been stronger. _Did I not try hard enough?_

And Lance... Shiro didn’t tell anyone about his pain because it couldn’t compare. He was sure. Lance needed the team’s help and he knew he would just get in the way of that.

But this all stayed in his head as he watched Keith storm away from the team. Shiro caught Keith’s shoulder as he brushed past him, knowing that Keith needed him in that moment. Shiro pushed down his own thoughts, forcing them to quiet down and knowing that they would consume him later. His team needed him now, and there was no time to indulge in self-pity.

_I don't deserve it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Sorry that I lied about posting another chapter sooner. This one is a little late, but it is here! Work got crazy, but I should have some more time now to finish up this fic! 
> 
> This was a bit of a rough chapter to write, tbh. I really wanted to get across the fact that Shiro also has his own battles with what happened, not just Lance. That Shiro's also been traumatized. I didn't want that perspective to be taken away.


	7. Incohesion

Shiro… I want to go home.”

It was the conversation Shiro had been dreading. Anticipating. The one that wracked through his mind in the early morning hours when he couldn’t sleep. Lance had been pushing himself farther and farther away. Not just from him, but from the entire team. A few times, he had seen Lance, in his pajamas and endearing Blue Lion slippers, slink away into Hunk’s room, where he wouldn’t reappear until breakfast the next morning. When Lance wasn’t looking, Shiro would try to pull Hunk aside and mercilessly barrade Hunk with questions. Did Lance say anything? Did he get some sleep?

_Is there anything I can do to fix this?_

But Hunk always refused to answer his questions, even though Shiro could tell it pained him to be in that position. A loyal friend. And Shiro respected that.

Shiro could hardly look at Lance. The boy looked so small, his eyes looking anywhere but back at Shiro. He shifted his weight back and forth on his feet; a nervous habit Shiro had noticed he had picked up over the last few weeks. There was nothing he could do to fix this.

Shiro hated to tell him no.

“I don’t think that would be safe. And if we needed to form Voltron while you were away-“

“You say that as if we have been able to since we got back!” Lance yelled.

His words hung in the air, filling the empty space between the two of them and they were suffocating. Lance took a few moments to compose himself.

“I’m the problem.” Lance whispered. “We can’t form Voltron because of me. Because I’m being selfish.”

The urge to embrace Lance called to every fiber of Shiro’s being, but he knew that would be the last thing Lance wanted. Lance didn’t want Shiro anywhere near him.

“Don’t.” Shiro choked, clenching his hands into fists. “Don’t ever think of yourself as selfish, Lance.” Shiro then whispered, almost to the point where Lance couldn’t hear, “I’m the selfish one. And this is my fault. Never think that it’s yours.”

The two of them stood in silence. The soft, yet familiar creaking of the castle was the only noise that could be heard.

After what felt like hours, Lance took a deep breath. “Shiro. I need to go home.”

“When would you come back?” Shiro asked, straining to fight past the tears that were forming in his eyes. They burned. The question hung in the air, suffocating the two Paladins. As Shiro stared down at his feet, he could feel the hot streaks forming down his cheeks.

“I would not be coming back, Shiro.”

Lance’s voice was quiet, but his words were ringing throughout Shiro’s mind. _Leaving? But we need him. Lance… We need you here._

“Lance…” Shiro faltered before continuing, “I’m not going to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

Lance’s breath quivered as he took a deep breath.

“Thank you.” Lance dashed, giving Shiro one of his charming, quick smiles, perhaps a peace offering, as he turned to leave. Before Lance disappeared for, what Shiro was assuming, forever, Lance looked back at him. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Before Shiro could take him in one more time, Lance disappeared beyond the threshold of the control room. The last thing he saw of the young boy was the back of his jacket, being pulled through the wind created as Lance ran away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays to anyone who celebrates this time of year. I know I posted a chapter a few days ago, but wanted to publish the next chapter as a gift! This is the first chapter of the fic that I wrote. The one that started it all. (I tend to write out of order!) Enjoy!


	8. Inhesion

Lance couldn’t catch his breath fast enough. He was finally going home. Anxiety caught in his throat and hung like lead in his stomach. With the realization of going home being so close, he began to worry about it being taken away. Irrational, he knew, but convincing nonetheless.

Lance turned the corner and quickened his pace. He would miss his friends dearly. Hunk and Pidge had journeyed with him out into the infinite depths of space, but he would be returning without them. A large part of him wanted to say goodbye, but he knew that the goodbyes would make him want to stay. And he needed to leave.

There was one person he couldn’t disappear on, though.

Lance made his way down to the hanger. As he passed Black and Red, he could feel Blue’s reassuring presence grow. He took a few moments to really take her in. She was ethereal; something Lance had never seen before and surely, he believed, he would never see again. 

The backlight behind her made her appear harsh, but Lance knew better. She was his haven. Where he knew he was safe. He placed his hand on her surface, which was slightly warm to the touch. He could hear her welcoming purr resound from within himself, as if it originated from his own mind. This was the hardest part of leaving, but he knew that he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t stop to see her.

Lance leaned forward, allowing his forehead to rest on Blue. He let his tears flow freely as he took her in one last time. He would usually be ashamed of his tears, but he let them come out, along with a small, choked sob, knowing that they were a secret that he and Blue could keep. 

“I’m really going to miss you, girl.” Lance breathed. 

He could feel his heart fighting to continue to beat through the pain. Though intangible, very real. He could feel waves of sorrow emitting from Blue as well.

“I’m sure they will find someone better to pilot you.” Lance choked a laugh, “Maybe not as attractive, though.”

He could feel Blue’s defenses rising, quick to contradict Lance’s negative self-talk. She was always protective of Lance, even from himself. He was going to miss that regulation. Someone nice always inside his head.

Lance knew he had to go, or he never would. Lifting his weight off of Blue, he look up at her one more time. She stood proud. Regal. Almost impenetrable. She felt like home. 

After taking a few more precious moments to take her in, he looked back down at his hand, which was still clinging onto Blue’s surface. He lifted his palm, letting his fingertips linger for a few more moments. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and tore them away. 

As he turned to leave, he felt Blue’s warmth reaching out to him, wishing him to turn around.

He didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! I start up work tomorrow, so that should be fun. It was a nice break.


	9. Incapacitation

The spare cruisers the Castle had were a little worse for wear, but they would be able to do the job. Lance lifted himself into the cruiser closed to the hanger’s entrance, slightly surprised by the lack of space. He winced as his knee smacked into the bottom of the control panel. Without his knowledge, he had grown quite use to the spaciousness of Blue’s interior. 

With careful calculation, and then with a few more instances of recalibration, Lance was finally able to adjust the pilot seat to accommodate for his lanky extremities. Although more comfortable than he had originally been, he was still very aware of how closed in he was. Without the ability to jump through space, he knew that he had a long flight ahead of him. Earth would take approximately a week, and Lance was really not looking forward to being cramped for so long. He could already feel his slumped back starting to ache at the thought alone. And he could feel a bruise forming on his knee. Lance chased away apprehension at the thought of being cramped with the thought of that bruise being the last injury to come of him in this war. It warmed him as he activated the cruiser. 

He tore out of the Castle the second the opening was large enough for him to squeeze through. He could feel the dull ache from within as the cruiser sprang to life; a gaping hole starting to form already. However, no matter how badly his heart was calling him to, he couldn’t look back to say goodbye.

Space had always been something that seemed immeasurable. Ineffable. Something that seemed endless. Filled with mystery and possibility. It was a place of wonder. A place of reverence. A place where each star twinkled and offered limitless potential. Each star a new adventure. But, as Lance looked around him, for the first time, the endless stars left him feeling empty and alone. No longer did the silent, translucent trails of stardust gently guide his flight. Instead they felt like quiet witnesses of his desertion. 

Lance forced his attention from the daunting silence surrounding him to the screen on his dashboard. Earth was seven days, nine hours, 24 minutes, and 13 seconds away. All Lance could do was wait.

He leaned back as far as he could, attempting to alleviate some of the pressure on his cramped legs, no little avail. Groaning, he shut his eyes, wishing sleep upon himself. Knowing that the more he slept, the shorter the trip would feel. He forced his mind to silence itself as he focused on the methodical beeping coming for the radar on the dashboard. He used it to count. However, he wasn’t counting sheep.

Seven days, nine hours, 23 minutes, and 46 seconds.

_45…_

_44…_

_43..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the late update. Life's getting a bit crazy! Sometimes I think I should give Lance a break, but that day is not today.


	10. Interception

The Castle had been quiet after Lance left. 

It reminded Shiro of how he had first felt when he left for the Kerberos mission. The overwhelming feeling of silence. He remembered how, when he was alone with his thoughts, he would miss the constant hum of cars or the quiet chirps of various bugs. They were the sounds that became so constant, so expected, that they became unnoticed and unappreciated. Their absence had been deafening. So deafening that Shiro had wished he had created a playlist of some kind that simply captured the sounds. The sound of Earth. Of home. That’s what Lance had become, and he had never appreciated that.

Pidge and Hunk seemed to be deeply affected. Although they could often be found exchanging excited hums over various alien technology that Shiro knew nothing of, they were different when they were apart. When he saw them on their own, their smiles dropped and their pace slowed. Shiro was sure that, after months of flying through space and training at the Garrison, Lance had become a stable member of their dynamics. Allura seemed to adjust rather well. Not to say that she didn’t miss Lance’s presence terribly, just that she knew what had to be done. Allura was always a good leader and Shiro always looked up to her. Like Shiro, she was able to compartmentalize things and focus on the mission at hand. But Shiro found himself falling short of her. He couldn’t be as strong. Coran had begun to mumble to himself a bit more. Seemed to always find himself in the presence of one of the Paladins, almost craving attention in a childlike manner. Shiro knew that Coran had really grown fond of the Blue Paladin and he was feeling Lance’s absence profoundly. It hurt Shiro, to see Coran wandering around trying to find something to busy himself with. To distract his mind from ruminating on the impenetrable 

The days continued in this fashion. Everyone cracking jokes and diving into their work when in the presence of one another. However, when there was neither work to be done or others to see, each felt the daunting shadow of Lance's absence swallow them. All secretly trying to manage a communal loss that radiated off the walls. All of them quietly wished to hear from Lance. Anything.

Their wish was granted, but in a way they never would have wanted.

++

“I can’t fight back! I don’t have enough artillery on this th--” Lance cut out as the cruiser took another hit. “It doesn’t move the way Blue does!”

“Lance!” Keith yelled, “Lance, we can’t hear you! You’re breaking in and out!” 

“They… th… came…out... no...ere!”

Lance continued to come through in jarred patterns. Shiro clenched his fist. Although they could only get parts of what Lance was trying to say, the tone of his voice said it all: He was under attack and he was losing.

“I don’t know if you can hear us, Lance,” Shiro started, willing his voice to give off more power than he was feeling, “But we got Pidge working on coordinates.”

“We know that he was heading to Earth and we know where he started from. We know that he is three days out from that location and we know the average speed of our cruisers.” Pidge asserted in a rapid voice, “Figuring out where he is should not be a problem.”

“Did you hear that?” Hunk assured, “We’re going to get you, buddy!”

“Plea… rry!” Lance cried.

“Once we get his coordinates, we can jump and be there in a few ticks.” Allura stated. Shiro admired her composure. He could see how tense she was, and how much she was pushing down. Shiro knew that look. He knew how that felt.

There was a loud crash and a sharp gasp came through Lance’s transmission. 

Lance came through one more time and this time, his voice was crystal clear.

“I don’t want to go back there!

Shiro’s blood ran cold.

“Shiro! Plea-”

Lance’s voice was replaced with static. All they could do was stare at the projection, knowing that he wouldn’t come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, y'all. I apologize for the long wait. I hope you all enjoy! The next chapter will be the last one for this series. It's been a lot of fun working on this and hearing your thoughts!


	11. Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. We are finally finished! I hope you all have enjoyed and thank you for sticking with me through the inconsistent postings. Let's consider this a celebration of Season 6! I must say, I really loved this latest season. I'm very excited to see what comes next.
> 
> There will be more fanfiction in the future!

Lance knew before he even opened his eyes that he was back in the Galran prison ship. He already knew that he was in a cell. The same cell. His mind was spirling as panic began to seep in. His body was trembling at the memory of the cold, stone floor. His eyes were stinging at the phantom touches the surroundings were inducing. His nose was shuddering at the familiar smell of mildew. 

_Space mildew? Is space mildew even a thing?_

Lance let out a half-hearted chuckle. This is what he was going to think about now? The potential discovery of intergalactic fungus? He tried to bring his hand to his head, which was pounding in pain. 

It was then he realized that his hands were tied behind his back. 

As he squirmed in an attempt to free himself, the door opened to a large Galran. Lance didn’t want to make any assumptions, but this one looked familiar. Was he one of the muscles from last time? 

“Who are you?” Lance whimpered as the Galran knelt down uncomfortably close. 

“I remember you very fondly, Blue Paladin.” the Galran breathed, gripping Lance gently, but firmly, by the throat. “You made very beautiful sounds last time you were here.” 

Lance began to panic and tried to kick out. His leg went wide, missing the assailant by at least a foot. The Galran took the opportunity to constrict his grip around Lance’s throat, making Lance forget momentarily that his hands were restrained as he tried to fight back. Despite his efforts, the Galran seemed only to be encouraged by the resistance. Before Lance could gather his senses enough to think of what to do next, he felt a sharp pain coming from the back of his head and darkness began to flirt with the edges of his vision. He was on the ground. No… he had been shoved onto the ground. 

_I can’t breathe!_

The Galran slowly began to fumble with Lance’s jeans, taking his time with the zipper. Lance’s arms still tried to fight back, long forgetting reason. It was pure instinct and panic now. 

“No…” Lance gasped out, “St… Stop!” 

“Your friend isn’t here this time, but I am willing to step in.” He said while evaluating Lance, his eyes devouring the young Paladin’s body. “It is in the name of science, after all.” With the last word, his hands left his throat and he roughly tugged at Lance’s pants. Lance felt them burn slightly as they scraped past his hips, well aware that they were below his knees now. 

_Please. Not again. Please!_

Lance began to feel numb as he felt the Galran’s hands begin to slither their way under his shirt. Numb, but blaringly aware of every touch. Numb, but each second drawn out and felt in minute detail. Through blurred vision, Lance turned his head towards the cell wall, focusing his energy on his home planet. The merciful numbness began to grow as he began to think of rain. Sand. The ocean... 

“Oh no.” The Galran hissed as he gave Lance a violent slap, “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with me.” 

Lance sobbed and screamed as his head was roughly pulled back by his hair. He could feel the hot breath on his neck as the Galran leaned over him. The attention was then brought to Lance’s mouth, which the Galran roughly began to part with his tongue. Lance’s legs continued to kick out, but they flailed to the sides and desperately at nothing but air while he felt a hand groping greedily in between them. He was being crushed. 

There was a bright light. The Galran put his entire weight on him. Lance cried out, but the Galran didn’t move. Lance opened his eyes, not realizing that he had shut them in the first place. The Galran still did not move. Was he… dead? Dazed, Lance tried to look ahead. 

In the threshold, he could see Shiro, and Lance began to wrack with relief. His chest began to heave and he was taking in large quantities of air. For the first time in months, he felt like he could breathe. 

Lance sensed the body being lifted off of him. He felt the Shiro tentatively sit him up and cut the ties holding his hands behind his back, asking him something that Lance couldn’t make out. Something about Pidge and coordinates. But it didn’t matter. The second his hands were free, they found their way around the Black Paladin’s shoulders in a tight embrace. 

Lance knew without a doubt that he was safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is based on the Japanese word "kintsugi," which does not have a direct translation into English. As I understand it, "kintsugi" is the art of repairing pottery and, upon fixing it, realizing that it is more beautiful having been broken. I thought this was a perfect word to embody the nature of this fic.


End file.
